Rants & Raves of Jasmine’s Fiction

… How long it would take for someone to notice that I wasn’t around after I’ve slit my throat?

My dog would know of course.  But how long would it take a person to notice? 

When my corpse starts to rot, and the stench of decomposing flesh fills the house?

Would my sisters notice?  One of them won’t, she’s away.  The other one probably wouldn’t either.  She can barely look after herself.

My husband?  No, he doesn’t care.  All he cares about is himself, selfish lying bastard. 

I’m sick and tired of being an afterthought.  I’m sick and tired of being forgotten.  I’m sick and tired of everyone assuming that I can take care of myself so no one has to take care of me.  I’m sick and tired of being lied to.  I’m sick and tired of not being heard, even when I scream.  I’m sick and tired of being taken for granted.

I think I know who will probably find me.  The housekeeper.  Next week.

Bye.

P/S:  Everything is to go to my mother.  No one else deserves my stuff.

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